


This Must Be The Place

by coffeehousehaunt



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Comfort, Cuddling on a couch, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hair Brushing, I've been working on this 5ever, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author is also drunk, The vanilla-est sweetest sex, post-season one, service top Alex Danvers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 12:31:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13501720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeehousehaunt/pseuds/coffeehousehaunt
Summary: Alex tries to help Kara feel better after Myriad.(For the Supergirl Kink Meme prompt, "hairbrushing")





	This Must Be The Place

**Author's Note:**

> Title from, um, a song. Probably of a similar title.

"Hey. It's gonna be okay." 

Alex squeezes Kara comfortingly, but gentler than she usually does—Kara can feel her just fine, with her powers blown out. There's no need to hug her at full volume. 

Alex's heart constricts at the way Kara burrows back against her; no Red Tornado, this time, and no earthquake. No tests and Lucy—mercifully—told her to go straight home and not come in for debriefing until later, in case anyone higher up got any ideas. Ironic—Lucy overseeing the directorship in part based on her father's reputation for hating aliens, telling Kara to go home to keep her safe from the same people who put her there. Kicking off another round of subterfuge and lying—which Lucy, admittedly, _hates_ —But thankfully, she hates it less than the idea of the higher-ups taking advantage of Kara's comparative powerlessness to manhandle her, turn her into a lab rat, and otherwise violate her bodily autonomy. They're on edge, knowing Cadmus is out there somewhere. 

She figured Kara would call James. It made her stomach clench uneasily—Kara relying on her, calling on her, depending on her, when she has other people in her life. _Should_ have other people in her life. _Kara needs to fly_ , Alex hears in her head; the voice sounds suspiciously like Eliza’s. 

It also brought out that tight, painful feeling in her chest; made her mouth dry and head dizzy. Part of her is still shouting that this is a bad idea, that it’s too close, too close to places they’ve been before and it took them years to move past, but— 

Maybe she could've said no, if it wasn't _this_. Kara's voice so soft and vulnerable, Kara staying close to her side like a second shadow, that scared girl who followed her everywhere at school, even if now she's taller than Alex and features daily on the front page of everything in National City. 

Kara burrows back against her, but Alex can feel the lingering tension in her muscles; the way she squeezes herself smaller in Alex's arms. The brittleness and tremor where Kara is usually so expansive; so open. It makes Alex's heart ache. 

"Hang on a sec." Alex presses a kiss to Kara's hair and disentangles herself carefully. "I'll be right back." 

When she ends up in the bathroom, she doesn't quite remember getting there, and her heart’s racing, soft and fast, too quick and too fragile for simple eagerness or exertion. 

Alex quashes down the shivery feeling in her stomach, the slight tremble in her hands, and picks up Kara's hairbrush; a little rummaging and she finds a comb, too. 

This managed to get Kara to sleep before, years ago; maybe this will help her at least feel _better_. 

Kara's picking at her nails and fidgeting when Alex gets back, paying no attention whatsoever to the TV playing in the background. Her hair curtains over her face, and the hurt in Alex's chest multiplies.

"Hey." Alex says with a small smile as she sinks down next to her again. Kara looks up and shoots her that small, shy smile that makes Alex's heart feel like it could hold the entire world. She holds up the brush and the comb and motions at the floor between her feet. "Sit." 

Kara scrambles down and wedges herself between Alex's knees. Alex could laugh; this always was something Kara liked, when she was feeling vulnerable. 

Kara begins to relax from the moment the brush touches her hair. Alex loses herself in the gentle tug and the white noise from the TV, asking every now and then if she's brushing or pulling too hard—habit, it’s not Kara’s fault she picked up molecular-level armor. Kara murmurs a negative each time, sinking deeper and deeper back against Alex's body until she's practically boneless. 

Alex lets more and more of Kara's weight rest on her, relishing the warmth, Kara’s complete trust. She knows when Kara feels safe, and right now, it’s radiating out of Kara’s pores. It makes the rightness in Alex’s limbs, heavy and light at the same time… real. She’s not hallucinating this, or wishing it into being—the sighs Kara lets out as the tension leaves her body in stages, the way she opens for Alex’s touch. 

It's like holding the sunrise against her body; the privilege of being with her like this, of comforting her, and Kara's heartbeat thrumming against Alex's inner thighs. 

She resigned herself to the heat coiling in her belly a long, long time ago. Almost doesn't even notice it, except that Kara's practically melting into her. Alex just focuses on running her fingers through the thick softness of Kara's hair. It's like having sunlight fall asleep in her lap. Draped over her thighs, head resting against her stomach. Something precious and ephemeral and warm. 

It sneaks up on them both. Alex, so caught up in the fact that this is _real_ , Kara still trusts her with this after everything, and Kara—

Alex tries not to think about _why_ it’s such a miracle that Kara trusts her. All that matters is that she does. Tilts her head to tell Alex where she wants her to go next, like she wants Alex to come closer. Like she _expects_ her to. 

Alex tries to just take that for the gift it is. 

Eventually, Alex sets the brush aside and picks up the comb, starts running it through Kara's hair—not combing it, but using the edge to trace along the natural lines made by the shape of her head, where her hair wants to part, the places where her hair would be a cowlick if its length were closer to Alex's. Kara sighs and tilts her head to one side. Her eyes are shut, face serene and blissful. 

Alex smiles and runs the comb down the line there, the one made by the line of muscle in her neck and her hairline and the curve of her ear. Lower. Down the line of her neck and shoulder. 

Kara’s head tilts farther, resting against Alex’s left thigh, exposing more of her neck. Alex traces the edge of the comb up and back down again, follows the curve of her deltoid and reversing to run the teeth along the hollow just above her collarbone. Back out along the same line. 

Around the curve of Kara’s shoulder proper, and down her arm, letting her leg lean outward so that she can trace down Kara’s bicep. Familiar lines; familiar and different. All that muscle gone slack; her fingers twitching when Alex finds a sensitive spot with the comb’s teeth. 

Alex didn’t expect this to be so familiar; old memories coming back, old unused connections in her brain lighting up. Familiar, but so different; she didn’t realize how much the solar energy flattened Kara’s responses to some things. Kara is, in fact, ticklish—but it takes some concentrated effort to get it out of her. Now, though, Alex re-draws the map. Falls into a kind of trance. 

And Kara—it’s like Kara never forgot. Soaks the touch up like a sponge. She missed this, Alex thinks, and the soft tilt of Kara’s head the next moment seems to confirm that. 

Alex missed this, too. 

Kara shifts slightly; this angle is going to be awkward for reaching her forearms and hands. Alex taps Kara’s shoulder gently. “C’mon.” Kara blinks slowly, like she was nearly asleep. 

They shift in a lazy confusion of limbs up onto the couch, so that Alex is pressed along Kara’s side, and Kara’s turned somewhere between on her side and on her back—she kind of just landed that way. It’s strangely comfortable. And Alex… 

Alex is fine. Really. 

She starts midway down Kara’s bicep, and trailing the edge of the comb down her forearm to her hand. Maps the spread of the bones in her hand. Slow zig-zags back up. 

Up and down the inside of her forearm, that soft delicate skin, and Kara's breathing deepens and her body relaxes. Kara lets her head fall to the side, stretching out the line of her neck for more—more of Alex's touch, more of Kara's skin, more of _Kara_. And Alex is in no way holding her breath, looking at that exposed skin, not wanting Kara to be able to feel her breath on it. Because that would be _too_ intimate, too close to something this can’t be. 

Certainly not because she knows how Kara reacts to that, goosebumps and shivers and soft gasps, when her skin is already this sensitive. This is just comfort. Kara’s just asking her for comfort. 

Across Kara’s collarbone again; all the way across, shoulder to shoulder. Both arms. The underside of Kara’s jaw. 

Kara tilts her head back, and Alex forgets for a minute what she’s supposed to be doing. 

Alex drops the comb off the couch, and moves to trace her fingers carefully up and down Kara's bicep, tracing the path of the comb, watching Kara’s face for any sign of discomfort, or that she should switch back or stop altogether. 

Kara sighs, long and with a slight shiver that makes Alex’s heart skip. Draws a thick, unsteady breath back in that _could_ just be one of those deep breaths that you take when you’re falling asleep, and her arm twists slightly so that her palm faces up, the veins showing through her skin. 

This time, when Alex’s fingertips find that spot that makes Kara’s hand twitch (the inside of her upper arm, maybe an inch below the midline of her bicep, Alex notes), she drags her fingers down, over Kara’s forearm, and threads her fingers through Kara’s, rubbing her thumb across the line where the wrist ends and the hand begins. 

Kara’s fingers wrap through hers, strong, surprisingly firm for how heavy-lidded she looks. 

Heat surges through her, and maybe if they were any farther apart, if they weren’t pressed together on the couch, she’d have had a chance. If they didn’t feel so incredibly _connected_ , right in that moment. 

But their hands are pressed open palm to open palm, fingers tangled together, the pulse points in their wrists crossed over each other, and it’s like feeling a circuit complete. It’s like Alex breathes for the first time in her recent memory. 

It doesn’t fade when their fingers loosen and Alex frees her hand to trace over every line in her palm; to start from the middle of her palm and push her fingertips outwards, mimicking the starburst pattern of the bones in Kara’s hand. 

Alex traces her fingers over the path where she'd dragged the comb—just the tips of her fingers, now, the edges of her nails—and feels her blood start to go molten at the way Kara's eyelashes flutter slow against her cheek. 

Alex smiles, or maybe she just _wants_ to smile, but she can't, she can't because she's holding her breath and her heart is racing and every atom of her body is focused on the sensation of her fingertips over Kara's skin, her clothes. The way Kara lets her touch her, completely pliant and open. 

If this was any other situation, she'd never have gone this far. But here she is, here they are, careening through this moment, and now that she's started, now that this is happening, she can't stop. 

She traces up the curve of Kara's neck, the lines of muscle and the hollows there. Traces up to her ear, around the shell with her thumb; traces along her jaw while Kara lets out a breath with an unambiguous shudder. Reverent. You’d never know; never guess. What lives in there. Those shoulders, that neck; _You try moving a million ton alien spacecraft_. 

But Alex can’t press harder than the weight of a feather with her fingertips while she traces the line of her jaw. And Kara—

The world sees her and thinks “Power”; but she’s vulnerable and soft laid out on Alex’s couch, in mismatched pajama pants and tank top. Vulnerable with her powers lowered, all the barriers and the strength other people see when they see her depleted—and she’s on _Alex’s_ couch, flushing under Alex’s touch. This is who Kara chooses to share this part of herself with. She tries to tell herself it’s not what she hopes it is, but it’s hard to believe, when Kara insisted on this place, these walls—

And Alex is an idiot, but there’s no mistaking Kara’s reactions. 

Alex hesitates for the first time at Kara's lips—she feels edgeless, and they've crossed lines left and right tonight in a way they haven’t in a long time—but even then, this feels heavy to Alex, too heavy to just plunge into. She wants—god she wants—to trace the line down the middle of them with her thumb. Wants to run her thumb along Kara's lower lip. Wants to watch Kara's lips part for her. But—

That's when Kara moves. 

The kiss is as easy as breathing. Alex has never been particularly focused on kissing in general—sure, it feels good, but all that time with her eyes closed isn't her thing. 

This, though—It's like what Alex was just doing, only with her lips. And a hundred times more intimate. After the way they've been touching, it's like a continuation, a deepening. The way they melt into each other, fit together, until they both have to breathe. 

But now the spell is broken, and she can't pretend this is innocent anymore. That they’re not on the edge of something they can’t take back. 

"Kara," She says, her voice jagged in her throat, "You're with James." 

Kara’s voice is low and breathy and shivery and _fuck_. “We're not quite at this stage yet." They’re not even dating yet; Alex knows. The last few weeks have been hard on all of them. 

"You could be." _If I wasn't here._

"I _want_ it to be you ." Kara’s eyes flutter open, serious and dazed at the same time. "I've always wanted it to be you." 

This is a conversation that they've not-quite-had so many times. And like every other time, Alex can't breathe. 

There are conversations she's had with Eliza, too; thinly veiled barbed comments about _Not letting Kara stay so dependent on you, She needs to get out from your shadow; Kara needs more than her sister to be healthy. Sister, sister, sister._ Like she thought Alex was in danger of forgetting. Like maybe she remembers all too well how none of this—taking Kara in, protecting her—was Alex’s idea, or something she wanted. Like she remembers Alex protesting, acting out—and she never quite trusted the shift in Alex’s regard. She kept encouraging Alex to spend time with her, look out for her—until she did. Yet another thing Alex has done that isn’t good enough for her. 

Eliza got what she wanted, didn’t she? Alex protects Kara. _Why_ she does shouldn’t be a question, not when all of this was forced on her.

 _Kara needs to fly_. 

But only ever metaphorically. 

"I want to be with you like this." Kara continues, her voice steadier, and Alex has to bite her lip because every cell in her body suddenly _aches_. “When I can feel you. When I don’t have to—“ She cuts off, running out of words, and Alex realizes Kara’s just as lost as she is. 

“This is your _life_ , Kara.” Why would Kara want to give what she has, what she _could_ have, up for her? 

“Yeah, it is.” Kara says. “And no matter what anyone else has told me, I still want you.” 

Alex could cry. She’s pretty sure she’s forgotten how to speak. 

Kara looks at her, something pained and almost desperate in her expression. “I might not have much time like this. I _want_ this, Alex.” 

Alex’s vision bends, and for a second, all she hears is her heartbeat. Distantly, she feels herself wrap her arms around Kara, bury her face against Kara’s shirt. 

Kara moves her hand to hang onto Alex’s thigh. “Alex?” 

Alex finds her tongue. “Yeah.” She swallows. “Yeah. I mean—Yes.” Kara’s hand tightens on her thigh; her arms tighten on Kara. “Can I just—breathe for a second?” 

“Of course.” Kara says, and her voice sounds so _fragile_ that Alex hates herself for this. 

It wouldn’t be the first time Alex has let Kara down like this, either. Has hurt her when they were so close. 

Alex settles in against Kara’s side. Kara’s arm wraps around her shoulders, tentatively, because Alex has pushed her away like this before.

Alex clings to her, though; Kara, who’s become her rock, her center. But Kara’s just flesh and bone, never more painfully aware of that than right now, and they’re just two people clinging to each other on a couch, trying not to break open in the storm. Alex’s heart hammers through her whole body, somehow more overpowering than the rush from a fight. She can’t quite catch her breath. Kara melts, soft against her, and slowly, Alex’s heartbeat slows. 

“I love you,” Alex says into the curve of Kara’s shoulder, when her arms start to relax. Her eyes are still shut tight. Kara’s breath shudders out, her arm tightening on Alex’s shoulders. 

“I love you, too.” 

Alex finally manages to force the words out in a rough whisper. “Are you sure?” Because it’s not a betrayal if it’s not just Alex who wants this. 

“ _Yes_.” That one word breathed out with almost ten years of force behind it. 

Alex loosens her hold enough to lift her head, fingers trembling on Kara’s jaw like this could all just evaporate, this little fragment of reality that’s just the two of them burst like a bubble. 

Alex lets herself want this. 

The kisses stay soft for a long time. Alex’s hand starts to wander over Kara’s skin—this time, tracing slowly over her stomach, her chest. 

Kara’s breath rushes out when Alex traces her fingers just below the curve of one breast, and suddenly her hand is on Alex’s, moving it up, and then the weight of it is in her palm, and Kara’s hips are pushing down against nothing. Lightning flashes through Alex’s nerves, bright over her vision, and she has to move, has to do something with it, grinds her hips and twines one leg through Kara’s, buries her face against Kara’s neck and bites down—maybe less than gently, Alex can’t be sure, just that this feeling needs a way out. Kara’s choked-off moan echoes through her brain, her hand tightening on Alex’s. 

Alex takes her time, learning the touches that make Kara shiver, make her hips move against nothing, thighs parting, makes her arm tighten around Alex’s shoulder even more. Til she can feel Kara’s hips cant slightly with every breath, and Kara’s legs are spread even though Alex hasn’t made a move to touch her there yet. Every muscle in Alex’s body is taut, every cell bent towards Kara, every reaction pulling Alex tighter, closer. 

Kara’s hips barely twitch when Alex slides her fingers between the waistband of her pajamas and the hollow of her hip; drags slightly with her nails when she pulls back. Kara’s fingers play lazily over Alex’s skin, and her breathing is thick and her lips parted. She’s _gone_. 

She would come beautifully, Alex thinks; the slow arch of her back and the unrelenting curl of Alex’s fingers inside her. Alex could be gentle with her; the slow drag of her fingernails—lips, teeth—up the inside of her thighs. 

If the heat pulsing against her fingers as she toys with the waistband of Kara’s pajamas is any indication, the slow push of her fingers inside Kara would be like breathing. 

They both make a sound when Alex parts her with her fingers, and it's as easy and right as Alex imagined. She doesn't have words—Kara's skin delicate and soft against her fingertips, the wetness and how effortlessly she parts for Alex. The way she shudders and spreads her thighs and the press of her hips guides Alex's fingers deeper, towards the edge that makes Alex's head spin when she traces it. Alex's hips grind against Kara's side reflexively with the movement, her free arm tightening around Kara's back to pull her closer, fierce and possessive. Kara's head presses back into the couch, throat bared and submissive as the angle will allow. 

Alex pushes up on her forearm more fully, shifting the angle so that she can do more than just tease. So that she can see Kara's face, flushed, lips parted around her unsteady breathing and lashes flickering against her cheeks. 

Kara's eyes slit open, breathtakingly dark blue, and her chin tilts up, asking silently. Alex kisses her, kisses her and feels Kara’s hand threading through her hair, free arm winding around her shoulders and _clinging_. 

Alex makes a sound into Kara's mouth when she dips her fingertips inside, years of need making her body weak and tight at the same time, tensing with a hunger for _more_ , tensing sympathetically with Kara's moan when she pushes her fingers the rest of the way in. Kara turns her head and half-buries her face against Alex's arm. Kara, wet and needy, vulnerable and hiding from the world—she’s hiding here. Right next to Alex’s heart. 

This is that protection she wanted to give, something that makes her chest ache with how full it feels; something as intimate as it is fierce. It was always supposed to be this—filling up all of these places, the ones that make Kara tremble, make her wet, make her moan, tangling the two of them together, and protecting her. 

Because this is Kara—vulnerable with whoever she chooses to be, vulnerable even with all of her gifts. Alex used to think she’d do anything to keep this part of Kara safe. Would learn how to fight, learn how to lie—maybe even how to kill someone. 

And then she did all of those things. And there’s more to it, now, so much more, knowing about Fort Rozz, about Cadmus, about the worlds upon worlds out there with their crises and their problems that spill over here, and the chaotic world around them, but this— 

Kara’s slipped her hands under Alex’s shirt, running her hands over her back, her sides; digging her nails in. She clenches around Alex, whimpering. That protectiveness roars in her chest, drowns out everything else. 

This is everything. 

Alex can’t take her eyes off Kara's face, the pleasure and the need writing itself there, the relief. How every movement seems to draw a sound from her, or harsh, helpless panting. 

Kara's making soft sounds against Alex’s arm, her hips rising to meet Alex's hand. One hand’s slipped free of Alex’s shirt to grab onto the arm she’s hiding against, burying her face harder. As wet as she is—so easy, how deep she slides—Alex can feel something building with every stroke. 

With Kara tightening around her fingers, Alex leans up, curling her arm closer, murmuring Kara's name, _I've got you_ , _That's it_. _You're not gonna hurt me, let me see you_. 

The way Kara half-whispers her name, over and over, like a response, like she’s trying to give Alex what she asked for, her hands moving to clutch at Alex’s shoulders—Alex almost growls with it, body electric with _protect her_. Protect her—claim her, keep her safe, _keep_ her. Alex puts her body between the world and Kara, and Kara gives her the softest parts of herself—and it rolls through Alex’s body, intoxicating. The short, desperate sound Kara makes after that just about sends her into a goddamn out-of-body experience. 

Alex leans her head against Kara’s when she feels the first shivers around her fingers. Kara's body goes taut under her, nails biting into Alex’s skin and dragging. 

Just when she thinks Kara’s breathing is starting to even out, Kara stills, goes stiff, one hand flying to the back of Alex’s elbow, clutching at it. 

“Don’t go,” Kara says, her voice small and a little high-pitched with an edge like tears. “Don’t go, please, don’t—“ 

It hits Alex again; Kara expects her to leave. To freak out. To shut down. And maybe, ordinarily, she would. Maybe not now, but eventually. 

Alex tries not to make promises she can’t keep, especially when they mean so much. Especially when _this_ —this is so fraught. And with her track record? 

But there’s tears in Kara’s eyes and Alex put them there, she was the one who taught Kara to be afraid of this, and—“I’m not.” She says, and she hopes it’s true, feels the idea solidifying as she says it. “I’m not going, okay? I’m gonna stay right here. I’m not going anywhere.” 

She keeps repeating it until it sinks in; until Kara calms, relaxes, her breathing slowing, hand loosening. “I’m not leaving. I’m not leaving. I’m right here.” 

Kara’s buried her head in the curve of Alex’s neck—she has a surprisingly strong grip, when she’s panicking—but her arm loosens, gradually, and she nods. Starts to pull back. Her eyes have that raw look, not quite red-rimmed. 

“I’m sorry—” She starts. 

“It’s okay.” Alex can’t move either of her arms very well, so she leans in and kisses Kara’s forehead, and then her cheek—and then further down her cheek. “I love you. Not gonna dine and dash.” She says, a little wryly, and Kara laughs a little at that. “I love you, okay?” Kara’s eyes get that fragile look in them again. Alex holds her gaze til she nods. Then she leans in and kisses her, gently. It’s different, without the same tension from before. But it’s still exactly what she wants to be doing. “I love you.” She says, one more time, feeling the words solidify something inside her. “I’m gonna get a cramp in my wrist, though, so can I—“

Kara looks embarrassed, and her hand disappears from Alex’s elbow. “Of course. ‘M sorry.” 

“Hey, don’t be.” Alex takes advantage of the free hand to grope for the blanket on the back of the couch. She pulls it awkwardly over them, only bothering to fiddle with it so much before she needs both hands for Kara again. “It’s okay. I’m gonna stay, alright? I promise.” 

Kara nods again, blue eyes glittery and wide. Alex leans down to kiss her again, tastes salt, vows internally to do whatever she can not to break this promise. 

If she can learn to kill someone for Kara, she can learn to stay for her.


End file.
